Louder Than Words
by harrietwrites
Summary: His speech was halted in all situations, but maybe... just maybe, she might be able to cure him. [MUTE!PEETA] Very AU.
1. prologue

"It's taken you three years to get yourself here, why are you complaining?" I scold, frowning as Gale pulls himself out of the car seat, his hand clasped onto a duffle bag, which he then slings around his broad shoulder. He'd just spent a good 10 hours in the car, moving from Denver up to Montana, where I had been based for the past 4 years, having finished my degree at the University of Montana and deciding to look for work elsewhere, somewhere away from the memories.

My hometown wasn't somewhere I enjoyed being, having lost my father, whom I loved with every ounce of my being. I decided to leave, give myself a chance at a fresh start away from the pain.

Gale had supported my move, but insisted that he stay and help his family after I asked (read: begged) him to move with me and get away from the ruined town. He just shook his head and that was that.

Now, after all this time, my best friend was here with me, _finally_.

"Catnip, my back aches and my eyes are tired from constantly staring at a blank road," He sighed, his fingers kneading into the back of his neck, his eyes closing momentarily as I folded my arms, "Give me a break."

"Yet when I had to drive here, I didn't mutter one word of complaint." I stated, the cool December wind blowing through my hair, forcing me to pull my jacket closer to my body hastily.

"Yeah, because you didn't _have_ anyone to complain to." He retorted, and I found myself rolling my eyes, turning to walk away from him and his bags.

"You haven't changed a bit then."

"Speak for yourself!"

"Hey! Aren't you going to help me?" He asked from behind me, and I simply continued to walk, flipping him the finger as I went.

My room mate had moved out about a month ago, giving Gale the perfect opportunity to move up here, taking the spot immediately. It was going to be interesting, living with a man. Seeing as my last room mate, Glimmer, had spent majority of her time out, or in her room with another man. My apartment wasn't the most spacious place in the word, but it was enough. Well, enough for me anyway. My room wasn't on the large side, but it fit a desk, queen size bed and a wardrobe. I'd spent exactly 50 minutes in IKEA, hating the sounds of complaining children and snobby mothers to want to spend longer than that choosing a vast amount of furniture.

Gale's room was next door to mine, which was either a good or bad thing. Right now, I didn't know.

Glimmer had left a bed and mattress along with her wardrobe, but I doubted Gale would need more than that. He was always a simple guy and didn't bother with many accessories.

"How was the drive anyway?" I asked as Gale placed his suitcase on the bed, along with the duffle bag. He'd left the rest of his belongings in his banged up truck, which he'd had since he was 18, bought from my Uncle Haymitch who'd decided it wasn't of use anymore.

Gale began to unzip the suitcase, pulling a bed sheet from the top, "Long. The road just goes on and on, I swear I saw my life flash before my eyes a few times."

"Wouldn't be the first time." I chuckled, planting myself on the edge of his bed, crossing my legs and glancing around the bare room, "You going to do anything with this?"

Gale glanced at the wall, taking little interest in the walls, shrugging, "Not really, maybe a poster of The Kooks, but that's about it."

"What if you bring a girl back here, and she realises that you're one of the most boring people on the planet because your room is so plain."

"God forbid a girl makes a difference to how I live," Gale deadpanned, his focus returning to his suitcase as he resumed in unpacking, "I'll be fine. Plus, I'm not planning on bringing a girl back here anytime soon."

"I beg to differ," I pointed at him, my eyes challenging, "We're going out tonight. Put on your best outfit, Gale. We're getting hammered."

And by 9 O'Clock, my challenge had been accomplished, seeing as Gale was successfully stumbling around the local bar, _The Mockingjay_ , singing along with the live band that appeared every Wednesday night, his left hand clutching a can of PBR whilst the other was clutched around my wrist, pulling me to the 'dance floor' as he had fondly named it earlier.

I'd decided that I wasn't up for looking decent tonight, deciding on a pair of skinny jeans and a forrest green jumper, my hair pulled into its usual side braid.

"Come on, Catnip, loosen up a little, it's my first night out." He slurred, his feet tripping over absolutely nothing as he attempted to make my body follow his in a drunken tango, "You used to be so _fun_ back home."

"Well, seeing as you're probably about to throw up or pass out or maybe even both, one of us has to be responsible." I frowned, watching as he scowled, well, attempted to scowl. He mostly looked constipated and immature, which made me chuckle.

"You're _always_ responsible."

"Just with your sorry ass."

"But that's not fun at all." Gale pouted, his shoulders slumping with his words. "You said _we_ were getting hammered."

"Well, why don't you go and find yourself someone to entertain yourself with whilst I grab another drink?" I suggested, waggling my empty glass of Gin and Tonic in his face, his mouth hanging open, eyebrows furrowing as he focused on my drink. Once he'd understood what I said, he stood bolt upright and cheered, swaying over to a pair of girls who'd be glancing his way all night.

I chuckled and made my way to the bar, my hips swing to the beat as I waited, watching the bartender flit across to the waiting patrons. I turned, resting my back against the bar as I watched Gale, his attempt at flirting with the two girls becoming more and more hilarious by the second.

The bar was busy tonight, but had eventually began to thin out, seeing as it was nearly midnight on a Wednesday, people had work. I shake my head as I try and forget about the column that I had due in the next two days on the ever changing world.

My eyes flitted across the room, landing on the different people that occupied the space, some in deep conversations whilst the others laughed and sculled their drinks competitively, smacking their empty glasses down onto the table with triumph, huge grins on their faces.

My eyes, however, were drawn to a table in the far corner, which was taken by a hunched figure, who was nursing a glass of whiskey and a sketchbook, their nose buried in it as they ignored the world around them, fingers tracing a watercolour pencil across the piece of parchment. I noticed it was a man, maybe early 20's, someone I hadn't seen at the bar before.

His dirty blonde hair was curly, messy, a way that made my stomach churn. They wore a black leather jacket, which hugged his shoulders nicely, along with dark blue jeans. I found myself openly staring at the man, my curiosity getting the better of me.

And just before I could look away, before reality smacked me in the head, he looked up, as though he could feel my eyes on him. His piercing blue eyes locked to mine, his strong jaw tensing as he noticed my gaze. His face was impeccable, one that I definitely would've remembered. His cheekbones were defined, hi`s nose slender and lips full and plump. Although I couldn't look away from his shining orbs, which wouldn't leave mine. And I couldn't find it in me to look away.

His eyebrows furrowed as I stared, my cheeks flushing at the interaction, and just as my lip twitched, he looked away, back to his book.

I dropped my gaze, embarrassed. I'd been caught openly staring at someone whom I had never met before.

As I turned back to the bar, my mind momentarily blanked, the bartender having to ask me 4 times what I wanted.

I spluttered my order, refusing to check on the man in the corner, not wanting to seem creepy or brain dead. As the gin and tonic is shoved into my hand, I pay the bartender, quickly turning and returning to the table where Gale had left his jacket, sitting on the high stool and sipping my drink, my hand coming up to fiddle with the end of my braid.

I couldn't stop myself from turning around and glancing in the direction of the man, and as I did, I regretted it, his gaze meeting mine almost immediately, a surge of shock running through my blood as our gaze locked once again, only this time he looked just as curious as I.

"Catnip! You have to meet Madge, she's new here too!" Gale barked in my ear, snapping my gaze away from the blonde stranger, his grin nearly knocking me over with how broad it was.

"Oh, hello." I mumbled, nodding at the pretty brunette glued to Gale's side, his large hand covering most of her upper arm.

"Gale's told us all about how he's moved up to live with his childhood bestie!" Madge said excitedly, "Which of course, I'm assuming is you!"

I nodded, chuckling nervously as she grinned. I wondered suddenly if she ever stopped smiling.

"Although I'm going to go out on a limb and say your name isn't _Catnip_." Madge giggled, her hand darting out to touch my knee as she looked at Gale, who was swaying happily.

"It's Katniss." I said, my eyes flying to the girl who'd just appeared behind Gale, her smile just as big as Madge's.

All this smiling was beginning to give me a headache.

I took a large gulp of my drink, wishing that this night would end already.

"Hiiiiiii!" The girl practically yelled at me, her bright eyes matching her bright grin, "I'm Delly, Madge's B.F.F.L!"

Since when was this bar filled with Sororities?

"It's nice to meet you." I replied with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.

"I must say, you're gorgeous!" Delly cheered, looking to Madge for a nod, which was achieved quickly.

I look to Gale, who was staring at Madge longingly and found myself having to make the move for him.

"Hey Madge, Delly, do you want to come back to ours for some more drinks?"

"I can't! I've got _so_ much work to do!" Delly whined, her expression resembling one of a cartoon character as she pouted, "but Madge, you can if you want to?"

Madge's face lit up, nodding enthusiastically as I stood up, taking my brown jacket from the back of the chair and shrugging it onto my shoulders, "well, let's go then."

Back home, I always had to make the move for Gale, seeing as he was either too drunk to do it himself, or had absolutely no clue of the signs that the girl he'd been pursuing was basically rubbing in his face.

I downed the rest of my drink, risking a glance at the table in the corner.

I felt my stomach sink, the ice clunking against my teeth.

The table was empty.


	2. chapter one

chapter 1 - heavy eyes

I meant to tell Gale not to cause a racket, but that didn't seem to have escaped my lips as I wordlessly moved to my room following the incident at the bar. Well, incident is the only word I can seem to use, as I've found myself thinking about the blue eyed stranger since.

Gale and Madge had expressed their _fondness_ of one another by rocking the bed into the wall, knocking my mind away from the possible ways to see the stranger again, causing a scowl to erupt on my face as I screamed at them to keep it down.

Although I'd spent majority of the night daydreaming, I threw myself into writing the following day, replying to one of the many readers I had collected for my column for the _Panem Paper_. I'd been offered the job whilst out for coffee one afternoon in mid July last year. I was becoming quite opinionated over some of the social aspects of our countries treatment of certain civilians when Plutarch Havensbee approached me, cutting off my rant mid sentence as he admired me fondly, exclaiming that he'd never heard such a remarkable argument from such a young woman. Of course, I suspected he was up to something and questioned him profusely over his interest in such a matter.

And therefor, of course, he offered me a job.

Must have taken a liking to me, which I can't seem to think why. Although now we had a well acquainted business relationship.

But, just as things were getting good, Plutarch decided to hire a second writer, as of late, which made my columns seem… inadequate.

So, I took on the Aunty Martha role, along with a column on love and relationships. I really had no clue why they'd asked me for this, seeing as I had no clue how to be in a relationship or how to love. It's as though it was magicked out of me.

"That Madge really is something." This was Gale's way of announcing himself to the room, drying his hair off with a towel as he did so, another white one wrapped around his waist. I never found the need to ogle at his body, finding that Gale was no more than a best friend, someone that I went to when I needed advice or someone to laze around with watching movies.

I snorted, "Really? I couldn't tell."

"Sarcasm won't get you laid, Catnip." Gale said, pointing his index finger at me accusingly, his eyebrows narrowing, "And I have a feeling that it's been getting you nowhere."

I scoffed, screwing up my face at him, "and how would you have any clue? Do you google my sex life?"

Gale rolled his eyes, pulling open the fridge and grabbing out the carton of milk, taking a swig from it, "I honestly don't think anything would come up."

"If this is your idea of funny, I don't think you'll last much longer in this house." My arms were now folded across my chest, my laptop sat forgotten since Gale had entered the room.

His hands flew up defensively, "I'm just saying Kat, you need to find a man."

"I'm perfectly happy with my laptop thank you."

Gale gave me a pointed look, and I ignored the accidental innuendo and continued with my column.

"Whatcha writing?" I heard from behind me, Gale's voice starling me slightly as my fingers moved across the keyboard.

"Jesus Gale, do you know anything about personal space?" I spluttered, pushing away his face that was a mere few inches from my own, "You're like a puppy."

Gale shot me a wolfy grin, moving around the couch to where I was sat. Laptop perched on my lap, a mug of coffee on the table and a frown on my face was a usual look for me, especially since Glimmer had moved out.

I didn't really spend a lot of time out in our living room, which was mostly occupied by Glimmer and her pre-teen comedies. I was never a fan of them, so I mostly kept to myself and wrote in my room, staring out of the window down at the street below.

"So you're telling me, as soon as I move up here, you're going to spend everyday writing for that stupid column of yours?"

I turned to glare at him, "Excuse me? This is the sole reason I can live and breathe in this apartment. I didn't beg you for a whole year to join me just so that I could stare at you everyday!"

Once I had moved up here, Gale was persistent on staying back at home, so for a whole year, I spent majority of my time trying to persuade Gale to move here. It took time, and _a lot_ of effort, but he finally gave in. I just didn't think it would take him yet _another_ three years to get here.

"Alright, alright." He backed away, back to the kitchen to eat all of my food most likely, "I just wanted all of your attention, it would make me so happy."

I ended up throwing a cushion from the couch straight at his head, hitting him flat on the nose, a groan moving from his lips as he looked at me, "At least your aim is still as good."

"Could you just give me one of those cheese buns? And I'll grab a coke from the fridge if that's alright." I said to the baker, who looked at me with kind eyes, a smile on his face.

"Of course, anything else at all?" He asked me, gesturing to the front counter of goodies that all looked extremely good.

I shook my head, pulling my bag from my shoulder to grab my purse, handing him a $10 note, "No, all good, thank you."

As I took the brown paper bag from his hands, shoving my purse back into my bag, I turned and made my way over to the small area that was available for seating, which was one of the many perks of this bakery-come-cafe that had opened a few years ago that I had only been into a handful of times.

I had decided to vacate my apartment for the day, seeing as Gale insisted on watching the soccer on maximum and yelling every time a pass or goal or whatever the hell happens in that stupid game occurred.

I placed my laptop on the small table, settling myself on the homey wooden chair and took a bite from the cheese bun, which melted against my tongue and was so good that I had to stop myself from moaning. I found that eating carbs whilst working made working a little less shit and a little more delicious.

I began to work, taking nibbles of my bun every now and then, my eyes scanning over my work, proofreading as I went to save time later. The words were starting to tire my eyes, my fingers moving every so often to rub them, their aching staying put.

I let out a loud sigh as I sat back in my chair, taking a swig of my coke. Time had flown by, maybe three or four hours before I realised how I was one of the only people left in the store. I cleared my throat, slowly moving to pack up my things, taking more time than needed. I wasn't feeling too lively and I knew if I apologised they wouldn't mind me staying a little later than welcome.

"You don't have to leave now that we're closing, we'll just shut the doors and let you know when we're just about ready to leave." I heard from behind me, and turned to see the familiar baker that had served me earlier today, his smile as kind as it were then.

"No, no," I waved him off, an unkept smile ticking its way onto my face, "I've gotta get back and help my housemate cook dinner or he may burn down my whole apartment."

The baker let out a light chuckle, "men. Hopeless, aren't we?"

I laughed with him, "Just the one potentially burning down my house as we speak."

He smiled, one that warmed the room, "Do come back if you need a quiet place to do your work, I get how loud a home can be."

I nodded, "I appreciate your hospitality, it's refreshing. Most people just push me out the door without so much as a goodbye."

He frowned, his nose twitching upwards slightly as he scoffed, "Well, they're not really in it for the long run."

"I take it you are?" I asked, giving up on trying to shove my laptop in my bag and deciding to just carry it for the whole 5 minutes it was going to take me to walk home.

But before he could answer, I noticed that he was turned away from me, facing a loud bang that had occurred at the back of the bakery, looking at a man whom I was assuming had caused the ruckus, of which was staring at us both intently.

It was the stranger from the bar.

I felt my throat tighten as I looked to him, his eyes flitting between the baker and myself, a rolling pin clutched in his hand. His hair was messy and unkept, some blonde curls falling into his eyes as he stood, his chest heaving slightly. You could tell he was a little out of breath. He wore a white t-shirt that clung to his toned chest delightfully, along with a striped apron and black slacks. He looked completely different from the other night, and I found myself more transfixed than ever.

"Oh, this is my son, Peeta. He works here with me." I was broken from my ogling to tune into what the baker had to say, "I'm Theodore, but most people call me Teddy."

I couldn't seem to match his smile this time, my mouth hanging open at the sight of Peeta at the back of the bakery, who gulp visibly as my eyes flickered to his once more.

"Katniss." I managed to blurt out, my eyes falling to the floor.

"Oh, _you're_ Katniss Everdeen? I read your column sometimes." He complimented, yet again with a smile, "You're very forward with your speech. Now _that's_ refreshing."

I nodded, "thank you, but I really must be going now."

I mumbled a good bye, not even taking the risk of looking to the back of the bakery, pushing the door open so I could duck out, rushing down the street to my apartment, the thought of Peeta and his shocked expression.

It turned out that Gale actually _hadn't_ burnt down the apartment, to which I was extremely thankful. He'd simply ordered a pizza, placing it on the coffee table along with two cans of PBR and the TV playing cartoons.

It was just like it used to be, and I nearly collapsed at the sight.

Gale and I had spent majority of our school life outside in the forrest, hunting or just watching the day go by. But when it was raining and we needed somewhere to camp out, the basement in my house made the perfect spot.

I'd asked mother if it was alright to move the couch from my room there, along with a TV Gale and I had found on the side of the road and the DVD player we kept in the attic, and she simply replied with, "No funny business," and a pinch to my cheek, which made me blush and giggle, something that only Prim, my mother and father were able to do with a touch.

"This is perfect." I sighed, sinking into the couch, taking a sip from my beer and letting the re-run of _The Simpsons_ play before my eyes, the familiarity of the situation sending a wave of nostalgia over my head.

Gale chuckled from beside me, taking a bite of the supreme pizza, "you've had your nose stuck in that computer for days, I thought you might need a break and some quality bonding."

I rolled my head to the side to look at him, one arm clutching the can and the other draped lazily across my stomach, "the workload is atrocious - you have no idea."

The next paper to be published required two articles from my department and Finnick Odar, my collegue, being the lazy and charming asshole that he is, decided that _I_ would be the one to take on the extra work.

"It'll be a little challenge for you, Kitty," He'd growled in my ear, nearly forcing my lunch from my stomach.

Finnick was a good friend, but _God_ did he irritate the living hell out of me. It was as if my disgust for him wasn't enough that he'd just back off with the flirting. But I'd learnt that Finnick liked to flirt with anything with a pulse, including Plutarch, who ate it all up.

Gale pulled himself from the couch, heading to the fridge, "Just give it a break for a day or so, let your mind - another beer?" I nodded, " _chill_ for a while. I don't want to be the one scraping you from the walls when you spontaneously combust from stress."

Gale marches towards the couch, a determined expression crosses his features, and I inwardly groan at the incoming lecture, my body shrinking back into the plush couch Glimmer had _thankfully_ left behind.

"You see, Catnip. If you go around throwing yourself into all this work, you're going to have a breakdown," He took a sip from his beer, pausing to gulp half of it down at once, "and when that happens, you're going to lose majority of your work ethic and end up without a job and dead."

He finished up, smiling to himself as he lay back into the couch, throwing an arm behind my head, and I sat there staring at him.

"I hope you never speak to your children that way."

"Oh lighten up," His eyes are tired, "Go out, _meet_ people, meet _someone_ who can fuck you into happiness and out of this bubble of…of…stupid."

His choice of words were impeccable, "Gale, it's my _job_. I have to make a living one way or another."

His arms flexed as he leant forward, taking possibly his 8th slice from the box, catching it on his tongue, where he took a bite and began to chew, although that never stops Gale from speaking with his mouth full, "'M jus' sayn' Gat."

I flicked a flying piece of pizza from my cheek and scowled at him in disgust.

"If I'm going to meet anyone, I don't want you there to _charm_ the arse off them."

 **A/N**

 **Hiii.**

 **So I'm overwhelmed with the response from the prologue. I've been into the 1D fandom for a** ** _long_** **while and I didn't even realise that there was my favourite fandom's fan fiction so here I am.**

 **I hope you'll stick with me, because I've updated this far faster than I usually would, and I'm hoping for weekly updates** ** _at least_** **.**

 **Also, this story is set in the present and although I know nothing about the US I'm going to try.**

 **Happy reading fellas.**

 **Harriet**


	3. chapter two

chapter two - silent conversation

Working at the office wasn't as bad as people thought. I spent majority of my time at home, going into the office that I'm rostered on to, along with Plutarch's texts every now and then which notify me if I'm needed for an emergency.

Finnick and I worked on the same days, so he was the one person at work I found myself tolerating, especially since my supervisor for the day had decided to throw a little extra work on top of our already _huge_ workload.

"I think," Finnick began as I pulled out a pile of papers from the filing cabinet, placing them loudly on my desk, "that he hasn't been laid in _years_."

I frowned, "and that has what to do with this?"

Finnick gestured to the pile of work in front of him, along with his computer screen, raising his eyebrows as an explanation.

Finnick loved to make sure I knew just how sassy he was and for this I would almost always reply with flipping him the finger or a sharp slap to the back of his head, successfully ruining his gelled hair.

"One day, I'm going to ruin you." Finnick threatened, rubbing the back of his head with a wince, the other fixing the mess he called hair.

I snorted loudly, "I'd like to see you try."

Finnick and I spent most of the afternoon working on columns, one of us taking turns in making the other coffee. I found that Finnick liked to add a little less milk to mine each time and by the end of the day, it was completely black and his more and more white.

"Fancy a drink?" Finnick asked as we walked out of the office together, my laptop shoved into my bag and my feet aching from the shoes I was wearing.

I shot him a look, "Finnick, for the last time, I'm _not_ sleeping with you."

He rolled his eyes, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards The Mockingjay, which was on the very end of our office's street.

"Katniss, if I wanted you to sleep with me, I would've achieved it by now." He spoke, squeezing my arm before releasing it, "plus, I think we both need a drink after the day we've just had."

I narrowed my eyes, deciding he was probably right, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jacket and following him down the street.

"When was the last time you got loose?" Finnick asked, a boyish grin surrounding his features as we walked, his hand pushing back the waves of hair on his head, "I mean, I'd love to see you without any care in the world."

I sighed, choosing to ignore his last comment, "I went out last week when Gale arrived, but apart from that, I can't remember."

"Oh yes, the hunky Gale." Finnick cooed, "when will I get to meet the man of your dreams?"

I slapped his arm. Why did Finnick always assume that Gale was my boyfriend? "He's not the man of my dreams, Finnick. I don't know when I've commented to make you think otherwise."

"You're always going on about him at work _and_ he now lives with you in your little apartment."

"What difference does that make? I could live with you and _still_ not want you."

"Slow down Kitty, you might give me heartburn."

I rolled my eyes, "Then don't make assumptions on who I'm with."

He chuckled, throwing an arm around my shoulder, "It's incredible how attractive your bite is Kitty."

I scoffed and pushed open the door to the pub, letting the warmth of the bar surround me as I sighed, the bite of outside easing away from my toes.

"What can I get you?" Finnick asked whilst he shrugged off his jacket, throwing it over his arm.

"Gin and tonic," I told him, reaching out to grab his arm, stopping him from moving any further, "and don't think that I'm not buying the next round."

Finnick grinned at me and moved his way through to the bar, stopping to high five some friends he knew.

I turned and walked to one of the back booths, sliding myself in and pulling my parka from my shoulders, letting it fall beside me. The booths were old but still comfortable, and I let my body sink into them as I watched the regular patrons of the bar.

Until my eye caught onto another's, whom I had been fantasising about all day.

Peeta's.

He looked startled, his drink and sketchbook laid out in front of him, a pencil perched in his strong hands, his eyes watching mine nervously as our gazes locked on one another.

He looked good, wearing a denim jacket and black slacks, his hair ruffled into a beautiful mess. He wore bags under his eyes this time, looking tired and worn.

I lifted my hand to wave at him, but his eyes flickered to it and then back to his work, where he continued to sketch as though he hadn't seen me.

I felt a pang of rejection in my gut, which was cut off by the cheerful expression on Finnick's face as he slid into the booth opposite me, a drink clutched in his hand along with my own, which he slid across the table, allowing me to take a generous gulp.

"I saw Thresh and Clove, they're still together after all this time." Finnick began, sounding completely bewildered.

Why did Finnick always seem to think 2 months was a long and winding relationship? "Finnick, it's been two months. That's hardly a massive commitment."

"That _is_ a long time! I couldn't even imagine being in that much of a committed relationship, just the thought-" He stopped to shudder, taking a large gulp from his pint.

"I bet you'll find someone so incredible, you'll want to spend the rest of your life with them." I pointed out, Finnick raising his eyebrows at me.

"You must be dreaming, Kitty." Finnick said, kicking my shin under the table lightly, "No one is gonna be able to hold down this bad boy."

I chuckled, shaking my head as I took another sip of my drink, chancing a glance over at Peeta, whom was staring right back at me, his eyes flickering from me to Finnick repeatedly, before he turned his gaze back to his work.

"Who are you looking at?" Finnick's voice snapped me out of my trance, and I felt my cheeks flush, my eyes giving away the nervous feeling in my stomach.

Finnick turned and looked, his eye catching Peeta's, a grin forming on his face as he turned back around, "Who's that?"

How on earth was I supposed to explain that I had actually never spoken a word to him, let alone know who he was properly, "Just someone I used to know."

"Bullshit, you would've mentioned it sooner if it was." Finnick called out, turning back around to take another look at Peeta.

"He's not in a zoo, Finnick!" I scoulded, smacking his arm loudly, to which he winced and shot me a curse, "You can't just stare at him all day."

"You're doing it too!" He countered, "why are you allowed to look but I'm not?"

"I'm _not_ looking, that's the difference!"

"You are, you've been staring at him and I've noticed." He looked like an utter child now, his arms folded and his eyes hard on mine. I felt like sticking my tongue out at him.

"Finnick, I have looked at him _once_ and you happened to notice, sue me!" My hands flew up in the air in surrender, leaning forward to finish my drink, "I'm going to get another one, you want anything?"

Finnick nodded, shaking his beer in the air for me to see, and I turned, not risking a glance at Peeta's table and made my way to the bar.

It was busy for a Thursday, many people were crowded around the pool table or chatting by the jukebox, an accessory the bar recently attained, which was another thing that I had grown fond of.

"Gin and tonic and whatever pint Finnick ordered." We were lucky that the bartenders now knew us, although at the same time it was slightly worrying.

He nodded, flashing me a smile as he began to make our drinks, and I reached into my pocket to grab my now vibrating phone, noticing there was a message from Gale.

 _From Gale:_

 _I've left some pie in the fridge for dinner for you, heading out with Madge!_

I quickly tapped a reply of thanks, wishing him a good night and pocketed my phone, pulling my card from my back pocket, leaning over the counter to hand it to the bartender.

"$7.50 for that one." He asked, pushing them towards me.

"That doesn't sound right," I frowned, "Isn't it $15?"

He shook his head, leaning towards me so that his voice could carry to my ears, "The gentleman over there paid for your drink."

My eyes quickly flickered around the bar, but I already knew who he was talking about. Peeta stood opposite me, his eyes immobilising me momentarily.

And with that, he returned my wave.

 **A/N**

 **Hey, so this one isn't too long but I've been incredibly busy, so the next chapter is the big one! Lots going on in that one! Thank you for all the favourites!**


	4. chapter three

chapter three - pierced

"So, are you in love with him?" Finnick asked as he pulled up to my apartment, switching off his engine swiftly.

I smacked his arm, "No! I don't even know who he is!"

Finnick shrugged, "Seemed like he knew you."

"Finnick, he just bought me a drink and then vanished." It was awfully odd how Peeta had done so, leaving without another word as I had went to move over to him to thank him, but he up and left as soon as I made a move to do so.

"Well, maybe he's secretly in love with you and doesn't have the balls to say so." Finnick pointed out, shivering slightly with the chill entering the car without the heating.

I chuckled, "I think that's highly unlikely Finn. Anyway, I'll see you…Friday?"

He nodded, leaning over to kiss my cheek as I opened my door, rolling my eyes at him as he shot me a wolfish grin.

Gale wasn't home as I opened the door and I sighed at the sight of an empty apartment. It was nice to a have a little time to myself without Gale. I loved having him here, but it seemed that he spent majority of his time watching TV than anything else.

Which reminds me, I should probably start pestering him about getting another job.

He'd left some curry in the fridge for me, which I popped in the microwave to heat up whilst I changed into my pyjamas.

I sat on the couch whilst I ate, surfing through the channels repeatedly as nothing seemed to keep my interest for longer than 5 minutes.

I huffed, settling for a cooking programme, where I sat and ate quietly, kicking my feet up onto the coffee table, leaning back into the couch.

Although my mind constantly wandered to Peeta.

I spent the next hour curled up on the couch, mindlessly watching whatever I flicked to, fantasies clouding my mind, sending a hot flush to my cheeks at the thought of my body pressed against Peeta's.

It wasn't until Gale burst through the front door that my mind was torn from the dirty thoughts and back into reality where Gale was currently shivering without a coat.

"What on earth are you doing?"

He looked at me with weary eyes, "I forgot my coat."

"I can see that."

"I didn't think I would get cold." Gale said, rubbing the back of his head stupidly, a frown becoming apparent in his eyebrows.

I threw a blanket at him, hitting him head on, "It's Winter you moron. Go and have a shower before you get sick."

He made a grunting noise, letting himself into the bathroom on the third try at the doorknob, his head nearly smacking against the top of the doorframe. I sighed, landing myself back on the sofa, rolling my feet under my bum, deciding on where my anxious feet could carry me to in the next hour.

Grabbing my jacket from behind the door, I shrugged it onto my shoulders, pulling open the door to the stiff breeze, pulling my jacket closer to my body as I trudged down the steps. I didn't know where I was going until I stopped outside of the bakery, my eyes staring at the bold **CLOSED** sign on the door, my stomach flipping as I noticed someone inside sweeping, their blonde hair shining underneath the bakery's lights.

I watched, deciding not to make myself known as Peeta swept, his eyebrows furrowed in a silent argument with his mind. His cheekbones were highlighted from the glowing ceiling light shining down directly on him. He looked thin, his chiseled jaw clenching and unclenching with each sweep of the broom. I found my heart rate pick up as he stopped suddenly, his gaze flicking to where I stood, practically stalking him, my eyes widening like a deer in headlights.

I turned and ran, my feet carrying me as far from the bakery as possible. As I turned the corner, I stole a glance behind me to see Peeta's frame standing out of the front of the bakery, watching me as I ran away.

—

"So, you saw him, sorry, _stalked_ him to his workplace." Finnick stared at me in utter disbelief, his voice condescending as I typed up a response for our column.

"You don't need to make me feel any worse than I already do, Finnick." I tilted my head to glare at him. I felt utterly humiliated by the stupidity of my actions from practically acting as though I was some kind of crazy stalker to Peeta last night, and then for telling Finnick about it.

He chuckled lightly, "Kitty, you need some serious social adjustments." He placed his hand on my shoulder, which I immediately shrugged off, "my point exactly."

I exhaled slowly, "Finnick, I didn't know what I was doing until I ended up at the bakery, and by then I was too far gone." I continued to type as I spoke, wanting to avoid Finnick's burning eye contact for as long as possible, "It was like I was on crack."

"You did have a crazy look in your eye this morning, I'll give you that." That comment earned him a slap across the nose.

I turned to look at Finnick, looking gas grim as I can, "I am so humiliated I don't think I could ever show my face in that bakery, let alone that _street_ ever again Finnick! I think I've scared Peeta off-"

"So you _do_ know his name!" Finnick chortled, leaning back in his chair, resting his hands behind him head as he smirked at me, "you cheeky little minx. You have been stalking him, haven't you?"

"Finnick, I will knock you out."

"Try me."

"I do not want to get myself fired." I replied, smiling sweetly at him as I turned back to my column.

"You wouldn't hit me, even if you wanted to." Finnick replied happily, pushing himself back to his desk, the wheels of his desk chair smacking against Melodie's desk, and I hummed in amusement as he turned a bright red, his head spinning around to look at Melodie so fast I could swear if I'd have blinked I would've missed it.

"Next time, watch where you're going!" Melodie screeched, throwing her pen at Finnick, which landed smack bang in the middle of his forehead.

—

"Catnip, do we have any bread at all?" Gale asked from the kitchen, with what I assumed was also a mouthful of food.

"I bought a whole new loaf yesterday Gale," I shouted back from my room, where I was busy watching _American Horror Story_ , something that Johanna had forced me into, "surely you can't of eaten the whole thing already?"

"I'm gonna go with _I have_." Gale said. It was hilarious how guilty he sounded, but the only place I would buy bread from was Peeta's bakery, and I certainly didn't want to go down there right now.

"Well then Gale, the answer is _no_ , we don't have any bread." I huffed, tucking myself further under the covers, "so, you're going to have to hop down to the bakery and fetch a new loaf to feed your undying appetite."

"I have no clue where the bakery is." Gale said, and I groaned.

"It's literally down the road," I whined, "look, Gale, you're going to have to find your way around this town sooner or later."

"But I'm hungry now and the scoping around town can wait until I'm full."

"Well, use that brain of yours and get maps up on your phone and _then_ you can find out where the bakery is." I was now becoming more and more frustrated with Gale.

"I don't know how to use maps." Gale mumbled, and I assumed he was embarrassed.

"FINE!" I yelled, pushing myself out of bed, "there better be a bottle of gin waiting for me by tonight otherwise I'm going to ruin you, Gale Hawthorne."

He chuckled as I slammed the front door, practically sprinting down the road I was so annoyed and anxious. I wasn't in the mood to make a fool of myself, so naturally I opened the door of the bakery and slammed straight into Peeta, who was holding a tray of dishes, which he dropped onto the floor with a loud _clash_.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry." I gushed, feeling my cheeks turn a bright pink.

Peeta was already cleaning up any of the smashed plates from the floor, and I noticed the whole cafe had gone silent from my tumble, some people laughing at the encounter in front of them.

"I'll pay for any damage, I'm just so sorry." I said, throwing myself forward to help Peeta clear the plates, typically slicing my hand on a shard of china.

"Katniss, you've cut yourself." I heard Mr Mellark say over the top of me, and I winced as blood began to ooze from my hand.

"It's fine, I've caused too much trouble for you already and I haven't even been here 5 minutes." I feel Mr Mellark place his hand on my back and I look up into his kind eyes.

"Katniss, please calm down and let me look at your hand." He says, offering his hand and I take it with my uninjured hand, avoiding eye contact with Peeta as I'm pulled to my feet. The cafe has resumed it's chattering and my cheeks seem to stay just as red as ever as Mr Mellark examines my hand.

"It's not serious but it's going to need cleaning and a bandage straight away," He looks up at me and I nod, "Peeta, will you take Katniss out back and bandage her hand, I can take care of this."

Peeta looks up from the floor, his eyes wide and frightened as they flicker from my hand to my face repeatedly. I watch as he visibly swallows and pushes himself up from the floor, turning and walking away.

"Am I supposed to follow him?" I say, Peeta's retreating back filling my vision.

Mr Mellark chuckles, "yes."

I take a deep breath and follow Peeta to the back of the bakery, feeling my heartbeat in my ears as I notice him bent over a first aid kit, pulling a bandage from its contents.

"I can do that myself, you know." I mumble. His head snapped up, blue eyes piercing mine as he stared at me.

"I should also thank you for the other night," I began, walking to where he stood, offering out my hand to him. He carefully took my hand in his, and I felt a heat shoot through where our hands connected, my gaze flickering to his as he pressed against the cut quickly. I winced, but nevertheless continued, "I never said anything for the drink you bought me. It was very kind of you. I mean, I didn't even think you knew who I was."

Peeta said nothing as he tended to my palm, swiping it rhythmically with the antiseptic wipe.

I really don't think I could stop myself from speaking now, "I feel like you hate me. I mean, _yeah,_ I did rock up at the bakery when it was closed and stand outside the door like a complete psycho but I don't even know how I ended up here. I just wanted to talk to you I suppose."

By now, Peeta had already bandaged half of my hand, his gaze focused on my palm rather than my word vomit.

"Basically, what I want to say is I think I'd like to get to know you because you seem really cool." Was I back in grade 4? _Cool_?

Peeta stays silent, finishing off my bandage by clipping it together, examining it quickly before letting go.

"Will you at least _say_ something? I'm pretty much throwing myself out there, which, mind you, I _never_ do." I pant, feeling suddenly extremely anxious and as though all the walls were beginning to cave in. Peeta's gaze meets mine mid panic attack, and I feel myself calm ever so slightly.

"Katniss, please take a seat." A voice says from behind me, and I see Mr Mellark smiling at me. I immediately shuffle backwards, sitting down on one of the benches, feeling as though I was about to be questioned. "Peeta, you may stay if you wish, but I'm not going to force you."

Peeta glanced from his father to my quivering figure, and settled himself on one of the stools beside the bench, and his father nodded.

"Katniss, although I didn't quite hear everything you had to say to Peeta, I did catch the end of it."

"I didn't mean to sound so rude, that's not what I meant at all!" I hurriedly spoke, my mind reeling to the endless possibilities of why I was sat down as though I was in high school.

"Katniss, please steady yourself before you have a heart attack." Mr Mellark laughed, and I took a deep breath.

"Sorry. I just came for bread and now I've made everything into a huge mess." I said. I really had caused a huge mess over nothing, and now I just looked a fool.

"Please stop worrying over nothing!" Mr Mellark repeated, and I stared down at the ground, "right. Basically, Peeta can't speak."

My head snapped up so quickly I nearly gave myself whiplash, "What?!"

"Katniss, Peeta's been mute for the last 2 years."

 **a/n**

 **hello. SORRY**

 **so just please don't hate me. had a lot of time off work from exhaustion so I've been resting but HERE WE ARE**

 **please let me know what you think i feel terrible I'm sorry SORRY sorry**

 **the reaction has been overwhelming and i cannot believe you all love this story as much as I've enjoyed writing it so thank you**

 **love you all xx harriet**


	5. chapter four

chapter four - explanation

"Katniss, it's been a long time not hearing his voice." Mr Mellark mumbled, his eyes flickering back and forth between Peeta and I.

I swallowed thickly, my gaze turning to the floor as my cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"He hasn't spoken since his mother left. Peeta has spent majority of his time at the bakery helping out, but none of us have heard a peep since."

I frowned, turning my gaze to Peeta, finding myself confused at his features. He looked embarrassed, his bottom lip pulled into his mouth by his teeth, his pink lips matching the flush of his cheeks. He seemed to be in deep thought, half listening to the explanation of his father.

"How did it happen?"

Mr Mellark shook his head solemnly, "That isn't for me to tell I'm afraid."

I nearly scoffed at his reply, "Peeta doesn't speak. So, none of us will know."

Mr Mellark nodded softly, "I'm sorry, but it's up to Peeta to explain to you. I cannot retell one's story. It seems wrong."

Peeta stood upright then, walking from the room without a second glance back to me, and I found myself feeling ashamed for prying. "Mr Mellark-"

"-Theodore."

"-Theodore. I want to apologise for my insistence on the subject, it was wrong of me." I said, twisting my fingers together, "I didn't realise the length of Peeta's silence."

He waved me off, "Nonsense Katniss. Everyone becomes curious over certain things. Peeta's silence being one that many question. I myself miss the sound of his laugh, it was something we rarely heard."

The empathy I felt for Mr Mellark then was overwhelming. He was broken. Broken by a loved one who didn't realise how broken they were themselves.

"I'm so sorry." I murmured, although I knew Mr Mellark heard me by the small smile he offered before he took a step backwards.

"Take as much time as you need back here, I'll be out the front if you need me." And with that he turned and walk back out to the bakery, leaving me to my puzzled thoughts.

—-

"And yet, after two hours, you return empty handed and looking as though you've seen a ghost."

These were the first words I heard as I walked through my front door to Gale, who stood with his arms folded across his chest and his eyes trained intently on my face.

"Give it a rest Gale, I'm exhausted."

"You walked 3 blocks." He quirked an eyebrow at me, clearly not noticing that I was emotionally exhausted. Although he was as oblivious at the next person.

"For once Gale, can you just be a _little_ empathetic and understand that my mind is racing? Quite frankly I need a nap or some gin, so please, leave me alone." I let out a long breath. I hated stating the obvious, but Gale needed me to, majority of the time, so I just continue to empathise with him.

"Alright, alright," He said, his hands held up in front of him in surrender, "keep your hair on."

I ignored that comment and continued towards my bedroom, my index finger pressed against my temple in an attempt to calm my mind.

Hearing that Peeta, the one person I had found mildly attractive in the past two years, was mute was something that I couldn't seem to process all at once. I am someone who hasn't latched on to a single human soul - apart from Gale's - since my father passed. I spent majority of my time to myself or dedicated to my work. But, there seemed to be something about Peeta that made me want to throw myself at him and tell him all of my dark secrets that I had kept inside of me.

I managed to throw my bag down onto my floor before I collapsed onto my bed and shoved my head against the pillows.

 _Why do I always find someone who's a little fucked up?_

I stayed there, thinking over every possible reason to Peeta's, well, _problem_. I'm not someone who can properly process big news quickly, so finding out this major part of his life was something my brain and mind needed to mull over for a few hours.

So for a few hours I stayed. Gale came into my room once to check on me and I waved him off easily, telling him that I was fine and just needed some time alone, which was a usual thing for him to hear, especially as I normally kept to myself.

It was until I had spent almost 2 hours in my room that Gale came in with some toast and a cup of green tea.

"Kat, I've brought you some food." He announced, not bothering to knock on my door, placing the toast down on my bed, where I lay on my back, staring at the ceiling.

"You didn't need to do that." I told him, not bothering to lift my head up to look at him. I felt drained, I felt tired and I just needed a nap.

He sighed, "Kat, you need to get out of your head. Come out into the lounge and eat."

"Gale, I don't need you, of all people, telling me what I can and can't do." I snapped, again, not bothering to look at him.

"Whatever, can't say I didn't try." He murmured before stomping from the room, his hand scratching the back of his head in annoyance.

—

"Kat, you've been acting weird all morning," Finnick continued to prod at me, "Just tell me what's wrong and I might be able to sort out the impending explosion that could happen in that little head of yours."

I glared at him, "Finnick, you're getting on my last nerve. Quit guessing and get back to work."

Finnick huffed, folding his arms across his chest, straining the fabric of his striped shirt across his biceps, "I'm not working with you for the rest of today if you stay in this mood and you know that you can't complete this column without my help."

I narrowed my eyes at him, "Are you threatening me?"

I pushed my way from the desk, standing up and sauntering over to his desk. Slamming my hands down against the cool wood, I stared over him, "I'll give you one chance to leave me the hell alone before I rip your throat out."

Finnick's eyes flickered with understanding then, a glint of mischief in each, "It's about the baker boy, isn't it?"

I felt my shoulders slump ever so slightly, my breath quickening as he began to tick through my behaviour, "Leave it."

"No, no, no, no, _no_. Not now that I know what's got Kitty with her knickers in a twist." His toothy grin was enough to make throw up all over his lap. Once Finnick knew something, there was no stopping the constant harassment and prodding he would continue to throw my way until I cracked or snapped.

"Finn, I really don't want you to stick your incredibly large nose in this," I seethed, "You'll only fuel my urge to punch you."

He chuckled, grabbing my arm as I began to stalk off, where he quickly stood up and shoved me against his chest, looking down at me with a shit-eating grin, "Kitty, we're going to the bakery."

—

I'd nearly thrown myself out of Finnick's car as he shoved me in the passenger seat and did up my seat belt. But, Finnick always seems to get his own way - seeing as he is a journalist, he does know how to squirm his way under the skin of others and manipulate them to do whatever he wants.

"You do this, and I'll finally ask Annie out, okay?" Finnick had suggested after I'd stomped on his foot three times.

Finnick had been pissing around with his lame attempts to ask Annie out, who worked as receptionist for the Newspaper. I would always walk through the entry of the building to see Finnick standing there with a coffee in his hand from our local coffee shop and Annie would be holding the same brand of coffee, which Finnick brought her every single morning without fail.

"He won't speak to me Finnick." I assured him, folding my arms across my chest as Finnick started up his pretentious Audi.

As Finnick pulled out onto the main road, he began to chuckle, "I don't exactly blame him. It's not like you're very approachable."

"But Finnick, who buys a girl a drink and then doesn't make an effort to even attempt to make friends?" I sighed, my demeanour turning flustered and agitated. "I never try this hard to get to know a guy."

"I know, Kitty, that's why I'm making you do this." He replied with a smile, patting my leg condescendingly, "You're going to win this one and you're going to chase him."

"Who ever said I wanted him?" I exclaimed, "I have never said that."

He scoffed, "Kitty, just by how flustered you're getting speaks for itself."

As we pulled up to the bakery, the CLOSED sign was poised in the front of the window.

"That's weird, they're always open at thi-" I really didn't want to sound like a stalker in front of Finnick, but he was already grinning at me knowingly.

"Let's go check, just in case."

I let myself out from the car, slamming the door a little harder than necessary just to irritate Finnick and stalked up to the door, peering inside.

Mr Mellark was cleaning the front counter hastily, his mouth moving in a way which was hard to decipher.

"He looks distressed." Finnick pointed out and I scowled at him.

"Come on, we should go before he spots us and thinks we're trying to rob him or something."

"Too late." Finnick strained, pointing towards where Mr Mellark was walking towards the door, a strained smile on his face.

"Katniss, lovely to see you." He said, "Apologies for the closed sign."

My mouth opened and closed 4 times before I managed to blurt out an, "It's okay! We were just coming to grab some food!"

The muffled laughter from Finnick made me blush a deeper red, my hands fumbling over themselves as I looked away.

"Oh! I have some cheese buns left if you'd like. On the house as I've shut down the register."

"Oh no, we couldn't do that. I have cash so you can just pop it in your tips!" I gushed, my mouth unable to stop its incessant rambling, "And we can get out of your hair."

"No need to rush, your company is always welcome here." He smiled, this time it reaching his eyes.

"Is Peeta around?" Finnick asked and I nearly slapped him right there in front of Mr Mellark.

"Unfortunately no, he's upstairs, just having a bad day today, hence the closed sign." He mumbled sadly, and I felt even more silly standing there then I had before.

"We can just go somewhere else, we really don't want to impose!" I offered.

He motioned for us to join him inside, "Nonsense, if anything it's nice to have someone to talk to whilst I close."

I caught the sad look behind his eyes and followed him in, unable to say no."We won't stay long, I really don't want to become annoying."

"If anything, you're doing me a favour." He smiled.

Finnick accepted the cheese bun with hunger eyes, devouring half in a matter of seconds, his eyes rolling back slightly as he chewed.

"Those are made by Peeta." I mumbled, taking a small bite of one myself, internally moaning as the flavours swarmed my mouth.

"Well, they're fucking amazing." Finnick moaned.

"Katniss, if you wouldn't mind, may I have a word in private for a moment?" Mr Mellark asked suddenly, and I stopped mid-bite to nod hastily, placing my cheese bun down on the counter.

"You're basically giving me an open invitation to eat the rest of yours, Kitty!" Finnick called out behind us as we walked down the hallway to the familiar back of the bakery.

"What's up?" I asked once I had sat down on the chair offered by Mr Mellark, my legs crossed from the amount of nervous tension in my body.

He sighed heavily, "Peeta had a breakdown today, mostly from his condition and the trauma behind it."

Woah, way to lay it on a girl.

"Is he okay?"

"He's stable, but I'm getting tired of going up and seeing him and achieving nothing, so what I wanted to ask you is…" He hesitated, ruffling his hands through his golden blonde hair, which reminded me of Peeta's.

"Go on." I pushed, practically falling off my chair in anticipation.

"You see, his brothers Rye and David usually are able to cheer him up, but they're at university this semester and won't be back for a couple of weeks. So, what I'm asking is, would you mind going up and talking to him? I know how fond he is of you and it would really help him I think."

I was shocked to say the least, but I found myself nodding and standing up to be shown the way.

"Thank you so much Katniss, you've really helped me out on this one." He chuckled tiredly and I placed my hand on his shoulder sympathetically.

"I'm not making any promises." I sighed, "Just make sure Finnick doesn't eat you out of business."

He laughed quietly, "This way."

We walked from the room, down the hallway to a door at the end, which opened up to a set of stairs.

"Just head up the stairs and he's the second door on your left." He smiled encouragingly and I gulped, nodded and followed the stairs.

They creaked as I walked, my pace slowing down the further I got to the top, my hands beginning to shake from the nerves that were creeping through my body faster and faster with each step I took.

Once I reached the top of the stairs I was faced with a room that lead forward into a living room, which was decorated with comfortable looking red couches and old fashion lamps that added to the homey look of the room. Door's scattered the hallway leading to the living room and I spotted Peeta's to my left, which was closed.

I hesitated, my breathing becoming irregular as I carefully stepped towards his door, my mind racing as I lifted my hand to knock, once, then twice.

It wasn't until the door opened and a dishevelled looking Peeta answered that the breath I'd been holding was let out in a gush.


	6. chapter five

chapter five

"Hi."

For Gods sake Katniss, he can't even say it back.

"Uh, I just wanted to come and, to come and-" God dammit Katniss, just spit it out. "To come and see if you were okay!"

He flinched as my voice had risen to something of a shout and I looked at him apologetically, my breathing having not stopped it's sprint.

He just stared at me, his eyes somber and red from crying, his thumb digging into the palm of his hand. I watched as his left foot stepped back and he offered for me to join him in his room.

I shook my head, "I don't want to impose or make you uncomfortable in anyway." I rushed, my hands held up in front of me, "really."

He shook his head, stepping closer to me to usher me inside and I caved, stepping past him and allowing him to shut the door behind him.

"Your dad said that you weren't feeling the best today and I thought I'd come and see if you were okay and maybe chat to you-" I smacked my hand to my mouth, shaking my head quickly, "fuck! That's not what I meant- I just wanted-"

Peeta placed his hand on my arm, his eyes staring into mine, which thankfully stopped my mouth from continuing to dig the already wide hole I'd dug myself previously. He gestured to his bed, to which I sat down on quickly, hiding my face in my hands with embarrassment. I couldn't just keep my mouth from spouting out stupid bullshit that makes me look insensitive and as though I'm a fucking moron.

I felt the bed press down beside me, and I shuffled my head to the side to peek at Peeta, who had sat down next to me, his warm eyes looking down at me.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to sound like an inconsiderate asshole." I sighed, rubbing my eyes, "I'm just worried that you're upset and I want to help."

Peeta stood up, walking over to the chest of drawers next to his door, pulling open one of the top drawers to ruffle around momentarily. I watched him with intent, observing as his muscles tensed and relaxed under the thin t-shirt he wore as he shoved his hand to the back of the drawer, his teeth hooked onto his bottom lip in concentration. His blonde hair fell over his eyes, which he immediately pushed out of the way as his eyes locked on mine, pulling whatever he was searching for from the drawer, pushing it shut before resuming his position next to me.

I hadn't realised my breathing had increased once more as he handed me a folded piece of paper, the feel of it between my fingers cool and smooth.

"What's this?" I asked, ignoring the fact that I was prompting him to speak, hoping that he'd give me some kind of clue.

He nodded his head at the piece of paper, which I unfolded to reveal a drawing of a woman, sitting on a park bench, her eyes trained on a book in front of her.

"Peeta, this is wonderful." I mumbled, examining the detail of the subjects face closer, "You really do have a knack for drawing."

He nudged my arm, his eyes motioning to the drawing once more as if urging me to look closer.

I trained my eyes back on the paper, noticing how the woman's hair was pulled into messy side braid, her dark eyebrows furrowed, much like mine were at this present moment, her lips were pursed and cheeks slightly flushed.

It was me. Peeta had drawn me.

"Peeta, how did you-" I turned to him, confused and slightly embarrassed that he'd managed to capture me in a moment of peace, "I didn't even know anyone was drawing me."

Peeta rolled his eyes as if to say _of course you didn't_ , and I let out a huff of air, pushing the hair from my forehead.

If Peeta had captured this moment, it meant he had been watching me that day. It was two months ago, when Gale had a girl round and I'd left the house for some peace and quiet to read _Pride and Prejudice_ that Prim had sent me for Christmas and I had yet to read. I was always skeptical on reading such a famous novel, such a well-renowned novel that it took me almost 5 months to pull it out of the packaging and flip open the front cover.

"I don't really know what to say." I murmured, folding the paper back up and handing it to him, to which he looked puzzled, "It's a lovely drawing but I don't know-"

His eyes were shadowed with hurt, and I quickly started to shake my head.

"No! No, I love it, I just don't know how to react to it properly because I've never seen something like that of me before." I gushed, my cheeks turning red as I began to word vomit. I touched my hand to his arm, my nerves beginning to tingle in my stomach at the contact, "Really, it's beautiful."

His gaze was focused at where our bodies were connected and I saw his mouth tremble slightly, his chest quaking as he continued to stare at it.

"Peeta? What's wrong?" I said, crouching down so that I could look under his long lashes at his crystal blue eyes that were shining with tears, one beginning to brim on the rim of his eye, teetering on the edge as he took a long deep breath in.

"I want to help Peeta, please just let me help." I mumbled, stroking my thumb once across his forearm, feeling his muscles tense under my touch, "If anything I'll just sit here with you. I haven't got to go back to work and I can tell Finnick to bugger off home and-"

A sob that erupted from Peeta's chest stopped my rambling at once, causing me to shuffle closer and place my other hand against his cheek. He looked so alone, so hurt and it was slowly breaking me too. To see someone so vulnerable was heartbreaking to say the least.

"Peeta, I'm so sorry." I whispered, not knowing what else to say, my mind speeding through any kind of comfort I'd used on Prim when she was this upset, but nothing seemed to be good enough for Peeta.

His hand came up to clasp the mine, pressed against his cheek, his hand gripping tighter as he sobbed, tears falling from his face onto his jeans and my arm. I moved my thumb to wipe one from his cheek, shuffling closer yet again.

"Peeta, can you lie back on your bed for me? I just don't want you to hurt your back." I asked softly, moving from my knees into a high squat, which probably made me look like a fucking idiot but at this point I simply did not care.

He began to slowly move back, his arms falling to his sides as he pressed his back against the blue duvet cover, eyes screwed shut as tears fells from the sides silently. I stood up then, moving next to him, lying on my back and taking his hand in mine, and then just lay there with him, feeling his silent sobs beside me as he continued to cry, continued to let all the pain and hurt out from wherever it had been hiding and just waited.

"I think you're a wonderful artist Peeta." I said, turning my head to look at him, trying anything to take his mind of his troubles, "I'd love to see more of your drawings."

He turned his head to look at me, eyes glassy, lips pink and cheeks flushed from crying, the corner of his mouth twitched into a barely there smile and I felt the breath leave my lips instantly. He looked incredibly beautiful at that moment and all I could do was stare.

"I hope one day, you'll tell me why you're upset." I sighed, turning my gaze to the ceiling where glow in the dark stars were pressed against the roof with sticky tape, "I hate seeing you like this."

I felt his hand squeeze mine and my stomach did a small flip, the hairs on my arm that was attached to his standing on end as I squeezed back, the feeling in my gut disappearing and being replaced with one of hope.

—

The following day at work, Finnick would not stop pestering me.

"You _must've_ fucked." He accused, pulling the article I was currently editing out from in front of me and throwing it behind him, "you've had his weird smirk on your face all morning and I'm about to rip this office apart if you don't tell me what's going on."

"Oh for _fucks_ sakes Finnick, leave her alone, you absolute moron." Johanna called from behind me, standing at the door of Finnick and my office, her arms folded across her chest.

"Don't even try and pretend you're not interested, Jo. We _all_ want to know why Kitty is so perky today." Finnick retorted, slumping back into his desk chair and throwing his feet up on his desk with a huff, "I've never seen her _this_ chuffed before so something must've happened with her and lover boy."

" _Lover boy_?" Johanna seemed to find this amusing as she pulled my desk chair around to face her, her breasts looming in my face from her low cut top. I cringed away from them as she began to jeer at me.

"Jesus Jo, have you ever considered wearing something that's a little less revealing?" I hinted, my eyes widening as she shook her chest momentarily, causing Finnick to snicker.

She stood up, "there is no way in _hell_ you've gone and met a guy and I have absolutely no clue about it."

"It's not anything for you to worry about!" I said defensively, turning my chair back to my desk, and pushing it out to fetch the article Finnick had thrown on the floor, but Johanna was a bit too fast for me, slamming her foot down on the piece of paper and folding her arms above me.

"Tell me, or I'll rip this article to shreds." She threatened and I rolled my eyes.

"They invented this thing a long time ago called a _printer_ , Jo, I don't know if-"

"Can it, brainless. Tell me about this boy or I'll have no choice but to torture the information out of you." She challenged.

"This isn't the 1800's Jo." I scoffed, moving back onto my knees and folding my arms across my chest.

"You're even wearing makeup. I can't _remember_ the last time _you_ wore makeup!" She stared down at me in disbelief. "This boy must be something then, to get brainless to touch up her mug for once."

"Shut up, Jo." I said through my teeth, trying to ignore the stifled chuckles from Finnick and failing miserably.

"Just fucking tell me, I haven't got all day!"

"There's nothing to tell! It's just a guy who works at the baker-"

"Not Peeta Mellark?!" Johanna gasped, her mouth dropped open in surprise.

"There's more then one bakery in Panem."

"Not with a cute mute baker boy, there isn't."

"Don't call him that." I mumbled, clutching for the piece of paper that had been released from Johanna's shoe, shuffling back to my desk to resume editing.

She began to laugh, "No way, how could you possibly have snagged him? He hasn't even batted an eyelash towards anyone since his mother left!"

I frowned at her, "what do you mean?"

"You don't know?" She looked at me with surprise, "I thought you must know by now."

"Know what?" I was becoming impatient now, having to constantly wonder what on earth Johanna was dangling in front of my face.

She cocked her eyebrow, her face transforming from shock into a smirk, "I know more about your lover boy then you do, brainless."

"This isn't something to jeer about, it's a serious matter." I said, glaring at her, "so unless you want to tell me, then fuck off."

"Oooh, don't get all hostile on me." She sang, "I'll tell you if you tell me what Finnick is getting his panties in a twist for."

I hesitated, the curiosity and urge to know about Peeta's silence itching away at me. "It isn't okay to gossip about him. He deserves better then that."

"Fine, but it could help you a lot more if you did know." She said, turning and throwing a wink to Finnick as she left our office, slamming the door behind her as she went.

 **A/N**

 **hiya, sorry this chapter took so long! I was in europe from december up until a couple of weeks ago and I've** **been so busy working that I haven't had** **time to write! sorry about the disappointing chapter but I promise there is more to come! to all your wonderful reviews - thank you.**

 **ps. i haven't had time to edit this and i don't think id know how to get a beta so i hope this is okay for all of you!**

 **x**


	7. chapter six

chapter six

The thought that something must've happened to Peeta in order for him to be silent was a thought that didn't leave my mind for the following week. I had avoided going around to see Peeta, nervous that he might begin to find me irritating or intrusive, so I kept my distance. Stupidly enough, I had taken to googling reasons behind becoming mute after being able to speak for so long and realised that it must've been from something traumatic. My mind could only come down to one conclusion. That it had something to do with his mother and I so desperately wanted to find out, but I'd vowed to myself that I'd only have Peeta tell me, so that I could avoid gossip and knowing what was right and true.

I'd been contemplating visiting Peeta all morning but every time I went to get my keys and walk to my door, I'd hesitated and turned right back around to resume my position on the couch, the TV playing a show I wasn't even watching and a cold cup of coffee that I'd made during a period of procrastination.

This was ridiculous, pacing back and forth, contemplating wether or not to go and see a _friend_ when they were in need of someone to be there for them. Wait, who was I kidding? He didn't need me, he had his family and didn't need an annoying journalist to come and pester him.

I nodded to myself, deciding that it would be best to just stay home and watch re-runs of _Friends_ instead of lose my dignity and become extremely embarrassed by rejection.

Good.

"Catnip, why are you staring at the wall?" Gale mumbled in my ear, causing me to jump out of my skin and smack him on the shoulder forcefully.

"Gale, I swear to God…" I threatened, eyeing off Gale as he rubbed his arm and smirked at me.

He shrugged, "I won't repeat myself Kat."

I sighed, slumping back into the couch, "I've just had a lot on my plate at work."

He shoved my shoulder, "Then take a couple of days off! There is such a thing as working yourself sick, you know."

I huffed, choosing to ignore him and focus my attention back on the wall, letting my mind run through the list of reasons why I shouldn't go and see Peeta. Gale eventually gave up on trying to get me to play him in a video game and retreated to his room.

I decided to go for a run, let my mind have a break from the constant battle it was under. Throwing my shorts and sneakers on, I bolted out the door, not bothering to bring my iPod and just began to run. I passed the local park, where couples and families were busy having their Sunday afternoon picnics or time together. I rolled my eyes at how sensitive I was being and continued to jog down the path.

Panem was lovely in the afternoon in Autumn. It wasn't too hot, or too cold and people seemed at peace once it hit the later hours of the day, strolling calmly and chatting happily with one another. It seemed like they didn't have a care in the world. I found myself regretting the fact that I hadn't gone to see Peeta after spending time with him, my path suddenly changing, my feet directing me towards the bakery before I even had time to stop myself, determined to at least check and see if he was okay.

I've honestly shocked myself with my change of heart. Normally I would just forget about the boy, move on and not bother with them, but there's something about him that makes me feel calm and like I can say anything at all. Without him even uttering a word to me.

"Katniss, lovely to see you. Just closing up but you're welcome to come in. Can't have my favourite customer waiting outside." Mr Mellark smiled as I knocked on the door quietly, silently praying that whoever was inside wouldn't hear it. I thanked him as I walked past him, taking a deep breath to calm my heart rate which was gradually slowing down from my run but as Mr Mellark turned to face me, it began it's steady climb back. I took a seat on the bench located inside the door and looked up at his expectant face.

"How are you?" I asked before he could begin to ask why I was here, my hands fumbling over one another as he handed me a bottle of water from the fridge, "I didn't bring any mon-"

He raised a hand, nodding his head once, "On the house. I am well, tired, but well. It's been busy over the last week. Although I haven't seen you, Katniss. Why is that?"

I gulped the water down, nearly choking on it as he asked me, spluttering loudly as I tried to regain my breath and dignity. I coughed a few times before taking a deep breath, "Been busy."

That was about all I could muster before I began coughing again, trying to steady my chest before taking another small sip of water to bring my body back to it's original state.

"Sorry, I didn't want to cause you to nearly choke to death!" Mr Mellark chortled, handing me a napkin to dry my eyes and mouth, "Understandable. Peeta's been asking about you."

For the second time - which I do curse myself for considering I should've learnt the first time not to drink whilst he was speaking - I choked on the mouthful of water, this time a jet of water emitting from my mouth as I coughed, slumping back into the chair, feeling my cheeks burn as I sat in utter embarrassment.

"Asking? He's been talking?" I managed, gulping back air as fast as I could in order to be able to talk, "I thought that-"

"Peet sometimes communicates by writing things down on paper and showing us. Happens very rarely but when it does, it's usually quite important." His eyes sparkled at me, a knowing look in each, "if you'd like, you can go up and say hello. You know the way I trust."

"I wouldn't want to startle him!" I objected.

"That's why you're here though, isn't it?" He said, giving me a knowing look before disappearing down the hallway to the back office, leaving me to open and close my mouth like a goldfish behind him. I took another sip of water, this time successfully swallowing it before I steadied myself, standing up and beginning the walk to Peeta's room.

The hallway was darker as the sun began to set over Panem and I had to watch my step as I began up the stairs, not being able to see them as clearly in the dimly lit stairway. The stairs creaked with each step and I cringed, forgetting their age and how previously they had done the same thing but I was too nervous to even notice.

Once I'd reached the top of the stairs, I wiped my sweaty hands against my shorts and tucked my hair behind my ear, my hand flying to my braid to fumble with it, a habit I had picked up when nervous or uncomfortable and took two steps towards Peeta's room.

"Come on Katniss, it's just a boy." I whispered under my breath and lifted my hand to knock, but before my knuckles could wrap against the door even once, the door flew open and I nearly fell forward into Peeta's bare chest.

"Oh my GOD, I am so sorry Peeta." I croaked, my throat having seized up from the initial shock of the door opening. Fuck, I'm such an idiot.

His eyes were wide as he stared at me, before he turned and grabbed a discarded shirt from his bed and threw it over his shoulders.

Although I shouldn't have, my eyes flitted down to his abdomen, which was toned, tight and slightly sweaty, chest muscles ripping as he worked his muscles to pull the shirt down over his head. I nearly fell over at the sight mixed with the nerves and shock.

"I should go, I'm so sorry." I spoke, waving quickly at him as I turned to leave.

Peeta rushed to my side, his hand gripping onto mine and pulling me back slightly, to which I looked up at him, his eyes pleading as they looked at me. He held up his finger as if to say _one second_ and pulled me into his room, gesturing for me to sit on the bed. He then turned and held up the towel that was previously draped across the door and pointed towards the door across the hall.

"Oh! You were going to shower?" I asked, bewildered that he was attempting to communicate with me, I nearly teared up at the sight.

He nodded quickly and then held up his finger once again.

"I can leave you to it. Honestly I shouldn't of interrupted you in the first place without even letting you know I was here or anything. I mean how could I? I don't have your number or- that's silly, why would you need a phone? Oh GOD! I need to shut up before I say something really off-"

His finger was placed against my lips, his face level with mine. He'd moved across the room and crouched in front of me whilst I rambled on and on, something I found myself doing only around him and his family. He raised an eyebrow at me and smiled slightly, holding up his finger for the third time. I nodded and grabbed my braid in between my fingers and rolled it between my thumb and forefinger absentmindedly. He nodded once before standing up and grabbing some clothes and his towel, swiftly closing the door behind him and making his way to what I assumed was the bathroom.

I let out a long breath, smacking my hand against my forehead, probably a little too hard but at that point in time I honestly did not care. How could I be so tactless? Not that I hadn't been last time I was here, but I was easily the stupidest person in Panem.

"Pull it together, Katniss." I said through clenched teeth, closing my eyes and falling back against Peeta's bed with frustration.

I let my eyes wander around the room once my breathing had settled, admiring the different posters up on the wall, such as _The Killers_ and a worn out fake of Van Gogh's _Starry Night_. His room was something I had never seen before, but then again, is anyone's? It was neat; precise. I had never been one for organising, especially lately, so seeing something so pristine was refreshing to say the least.

I began to count the stars on the roof once I had thoroughly observed Peeta's room, knowing where many of the different accessories and objects were placed almost by memory, before Peeta burst through the door, his hair damp from the shower and his face slightly flushed.

"Hi." I mumbled as he threw his old clothing into a washing basket located in the corner of his room. He offered me a small wave and I smiled.

"How are you?" I asked, just out of politeness and he shrugged, eyes trained on mine. He looked calmer today, his eyebrows less furrowed and the bags under his eyes weren't as prominent as they were last week.

"I would've come by earlier, but I've been so busy at work and I haven't had time to myself." I lied, the guilt creeping through my body, "You look better."

He moved his gaze from mine and moved towards his bedside table, grabbing the black book that was placed on top and took a seat next to me, his craftsman hands smoothing their way across the front cover. The book looked worn, like it had been used many many times. It was a visual diary, that much I could tell, with many pages that must be filled with artwork.

"I wish I had something as loved as that." I told him, trailing my fingers down the leather spine, the rough texture was cool against my finger and I hummed slightly at the feeling. I could feel his eyes on me but I decided to keep mine trained on the book or on his clenched fist on the bed between us. "My sister has a copy of _The Great Gatsby_ that she loves to death and it's practically falling apart but I envy her for her commitment to something that's so dear to her."

I moved my hand as he opened the front cover. Sprawled across it in neat handwriting was written:

 _This belongs to Peeta Mellark._

"She also had a diary with," I made air quotes as I spoke, a grin on my face, "'This diary belongs to Primrose Everdeen, do not touch…or else!'"

I found myself chuckling at the likes and memory of my little sister, a strum of longing for missing her stumbling through my body as I let the laughter die inside of me, "I'll have to call her soon, see how she is."

He began to flip through the book, past drawings of lakes and parks, street signs and old houses. It was calming to view the different artwork he'd created, and I felt myself ease as he continued, obviously searching for a certain page.

"You're really good, you know that right?" I asked, the rhetorical question slipping from my lips before I could stop it, "I've never seen an artist with so much detail. It's remarkable."

I chanced a glance at Peeta's face and was instantly rewarded with a glowing smile that made my stomach erupt with butterflies and my cheeks flush an angry red.

His gaze turned back down onto the paper, which he tapped with his index finger at a certain drawing near the end of the book on a newer looking page.

It was another drawing of me.

Only this time, I was sat on a bed, my hair pulled into a braid yet against and my eyes full of worry and care. My lips were slightly parted and I had my work blouse and tight black skirt on.

"Peeta, it's lovely. Is this from the other day?" I asked, to which he nodded and flipped the page to another drawing.

It was me again.

This picture knocked the breath from my lungs. It was me kneeling in front of him, my hand extended towards the viewer, as though it was drawn the viewers own eyes, to which I had figured it was from Peeta's memory. I trailed my finger across the detail of my eyebrows, smudging the pencil markings slightly and my hands flew off the page.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to smudge it. I'm such a fucking mess." I said, clenching my teeth with frustration. Peeta shook his head and smiled, leaning behind him to grab an eraser from his bedside, rubbing the page gently and removing the smudge I had made.

His hand moved from the page with a flourish which only caused me to giggle and push his arm, "I'm honestly so clumsy around you. I hate it."

He itched a small smile back and closed the diary, placing it back on his bedside table. It then began the awkward tension which filled the air instantly and I found myself looking around the room for something to talk about.

"I love your Starry Night picture! It's such a wonderful painting, don't you think? Apparently he painted it whilst in an asylum, which is incredible considering he would've been in an asylum." I paused for a quick breath, "I mean, to be in somewhere where you're belittled and told you're crazy and then to come out with something like that is just inspiring."

Peeta had just sat watching me the entire time I was going on and on, moving to push back a piece of my hair behind my ear that had fallen forward with my extravagant movements. I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand on end and a small shiver shimmy it's way through my body. If he did that again I might just melt onto the floor.

And at that moment, not knowing what had possessed me to ruin such a peaceful moment, I opened my big mouth and said, "Peeta, what happened to you?"

He flinched at my words and his eyes instantly darkened, his head turning away from me to stare at the wall, his hands clenched into fists and the veins in his forearm were more prominent then I'd ever seen them. His hands were shaking ever so slightly, his eyes screwed shut and teeth clenched.

"Please, I just want to know and help you." I said calmly, trying my luck by placing my hand on his leg. He looked down at it, then at me and forcefully shoved it off, standing up and pushing a pile of books from the bookcase edge, where they clattered to the floor in a heap, startling me out of my daze.

I shot up, holding my hands in front of my body defensively, "Peeta, I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me or write it down or anything. It's fine, I shouldn't of asked. I was tactless and it was intrusive and I'm so sorry."

The tears that filled his eyes and spilled over made my heart hurt and I found myself walking towards him, trying to comfort him but he backed away, shaking his head at me. Peeta's eyes were wide and his eyebrows furrowed. He was angry, I could tell that much and I dropped my hands at once, taking a step back and staring at him apologetically.

"I'll go. I'm so sorry, Peeta." I told him, not taking another glance back at him as I let myself out from his door and rushed down the stairs, rushing for the front door of the bakery.

"Everything okay?" Mr Mellark called from the cashier, where he was busy counting the days income, "You look flustered."

"I really screwed up and I'm so sorry. I have to go." I had to turn my head to stop the tears from pouring over and facing the shame and embarrassment that would come with Mr Mellark's expression.

I let myself out from the bakery and ran down the road, all the way back to my apartment where I sat with my back against the door and cried. And cried.

It wasn't until the sun began to go down that Gale found me outside, curled up and worn out, my legs cramped from the constant bend in my knee.

"Kat, what are you doing?" He asked, crouching down beside me and placing his rather large hand on my shoulder, "it's practically dark and it's getting cold."

I looked up at him, my eyes puffy. I probably looked a wreck. "Just help me up. I'll sleep it off."

Gale had learnt not to ask questions when I was like this, which is why he nodded and pulled me up, helping me into the apartment and then to my room, where I fell onto my bed and into an instant slumber.

—

Two days later I had decided to leave Peeta and his family alone.

The guilt I felt for hurting him was eating away at me and I found myself attempting to forget about what I'd said and done and just get on with it. I spent time at work editing articles and Finnick seemed to have better things to do then pester me, so I was thankful for whatever God was watching over me at that point because I probably would've punched him if he'd said anything.

Work moved slower than usual and writing articles became more and more difficult as the days went on. I spent extra time at the office, planning different articles and brainstorming ideas over cups and cups of coffee. I even helped myself to a few of Annie's biscuits that she was always offering me and mentally slapped myself in the face for not accepting them before.

That night, I arrived home and slumped down on the couch, cracking open a blue ribbon and taking a large gulp, draining nearly half the can in one sip. Flicking on the TV, I settled for _Law & Order_ and lulled myself into a peaceful daze, watching and sipping on my beer until I had to get up to get another can.

Not long after the second episode had begun, Gale pushed his way through the front door, a giggling Madge in-tow, his hand clasped in hers as he shoved the door closed behind him.

"Catnip! Lively as ever I see." Gale yelled sarcastically, slamming his hands against the back of the couch, jolting me from my daze. I looked around, my vision slightly foggy from the beer and frowned at him.

"Hi Katniss. Great to see you again." Madge smiled from around Gale's towering figure, her grin radiating around the entire room, but it didn't seem to touch my mood.

I waved back half-heartedly and turned back to face the TV, ignoring Gale's comment and focusing on the characters moving around the screen.

"Can we join you? Wouldn't mind a beer and some SVU." Gale asked, chuckling to himself as he grabbed two beers from the fridge and handed one to Madge, taking a sip of his and looking to me expectantly.

"Sure, I won't be staying long though." I mumbled, turning my attention once again back to the TV.

Gale leant forward and snatch the remote from the coffee table - a rookie mistake by me - and turned the TV off and shoved the remote under his arse in one fluid motion.

I just looked at him.

"Tell me why you've been in such a strop recently." He said, looking me dead in the eyes, his arms folded across his chest. Madge sat next to him, looking nervously between Gale and I, a slight panic in her eyes at what might happen.

"I might just go and-"

"Kat! You can't just sit there everyday and expect that I'm not going to notice and ask you repeatedly why you're upset." Gale shouted, causing Madge to squeal slightly with surprise, her hair flying up with her body and bouncing against her rosy cheeks.

"It's none of your business." I said a matter of a factly, shooting him a look, "I can be stroppy if I want to be and not have _you_ question me for it."

"Is it to do with work?" He asked, trying a different angle to get me to talk. I shrugged, continuing to stare at the blank TV.

Madge had attempted yet again to escape the tension in the room but Gale had his arm wrapped around her shoulders, his hand gripped onto her shoulder absentmindedly, and she seemed a little hesitant to move it without him noticing.

"Is it a guy?" He tried again, this time receiving a slight flinch out of me which I tried to control but failed. "Ahhh, so it's a boy."

Madge sighed, "boys are a pain in the arse Katniss, take it from me."

I did appreciate Madge trying to be empathetic with me but I was simply not in the mood, so I hope she didn't take offence to the fact that I just simply did not react to her attempt at being chummy.

"I'll say it again, it's none of your _god damn_ business, Gale." I shot back, my temper beginning to rise at the constant prodding that Gale had deemed necessary. It wasn't as though Gale could go on with this all day, so I just sat there and remained silent until he became so irritated it spilt beer on his new Polo top.

"Serves you right, poking at her like she was some kind of animal." Madge's whisper carried from the hallway to where I was sitting and I smiled slightly, glad that Gale was being pushed into some kind of line. Even if he was the most stubborn person I'd ever met.

Besides myself, of course.

—

By the time Monday came around, I had managed to avoid Gale. I'd ducked off to work early and I was now elbows deep on a new article Finnick and I had been given about the park being funded for renovations when I heard a knock at my door.

"Katniss, someone's here to see you. Says it's urgent." It was Annie, her face flustered at the sight of Finnick winking at her repeatedly, a tradition he had whenever he saw Annie around others. Probably an attempt to look desirable to the rest of us.

The thought only made me dry-wretch.

I frowned, "Who could possibly need me this urgently?"

Annie looked taken aback at that point, her hair being pulled across her shoulders as she began to fiddle with it - a normal and nervous habit for her, "I'm not sure. They're soaking wet from the rain and I completely forgot to ask for a name because I rushed up here to tell you and now I'm here…telling you."

I sighed, "thanks Annie, I'll follow you down."

She seemed a little surprised that I complied so quickly and scurried in front of me, waving goodbye to Finnick who echoed with a "laters, baby."

I'm almost certain he'd been reading _Fifty Shades of Grey_ behind his computer screen whilst I was busy editing.

He'd been reading up online on how to 'woo' shy and innocent girls like Annie after giving up on continuously asking me for tips as I would simply just answer, 'stop being a fuck knuckle'.

Annie pressed the button for the elevator and turned to me, her eyes slightly frantic, "Finnick asked me on a date yesterday."

I rolled my eyes, "did he get down on one knee?"

Annie giggled furiously at that, stepping into the elevator and pressing the ground floor, "No! Don't be silly. He left a note on my desk and came by when he finished to make sure I'd seen it - which of course I had - and I said I had and then he asked me if I wanted to-"

"-Annie, he's a bit of a asshole."

"-and I said yes."

I stared at her, completely bewildered, "You said what?"

"I said yes." She shrugged, her cheeks red.

"Annie…" I whined, "just…be careful."

She smiled at me, "I will Kat, thanks for worrying about me."

Before I could reply, the elevator doors opened to reveal my surprise visitor.

Mr Mellark stood at the reception desk with a frantic look on his face, which had my stomach drop and my legs turn slightly jelly-like.

"Mr Mellark, to what do I owe the pleasure?" I asked, offering him my hand to shake.

He shook it quickly, his palm sweaty against mine and gripped onto my hand as he spoke, "Katniss. Peeta ran off this afternoon and I haven't been able to find him for an hour. He wrote something about screwing things up with everyone and left it on his bed for me to find around 2 this afternoon. I know it's silly of me but would you-"

"I'll just grab my jacket."

 **a/n**

 **hiiiiiii so thank you for the constant support and constant love! this chapter came v quickly but its because your reviews motivated me to write so i did - thank you!**

 **next chapter wont be for a couple of days due to work and me needing sleep but keep your eyes open and follow the story! let me know what you think of this chapter x**


	8. chapter seven

**HELLO. I am here and this is on the road again. Just a few quick notes to start off with. Firstly, this story is not entirely factual to mutism. Peeta's selective mutism is one that I'm playing around with and not everything will be true to the proper diagnosis. I'm merely using it as a trigger for my plot. Also if this is any way triggering for you please do not read on! Secondly, I am SO SORRY that this hasn't been updated for over a year (how ridiculous). I've been so busy with uni and saving for my next big holiday that I lost my passion for writing but I'm back and I have a drive for this fic again! There's much more to come and although this chapter isn't as big as I'd like, the next to come will be bigger (ALSO IF ANYONE IS A BETA AND WANTS TO HELP PLS DO I feel like I'm writing complete drivel half the time). Thirdly, for those who've stuck with me, I'm sending you lots of kisses because you're incredible and make this all possible! If you haven't already - head over to check out my new story Teacher's Pet. Soon to be very smutty and a lot of Everlark TENSIONNNN my fav. xxx**

The thought that Peeta had left and run off was one that baffled me. Why would Peeta run off randomly and his father worry after only an hour? It seemed like such a short period of time to be hastily calling a search party. But then again, I suppose that Theodore was a father.

The effect that Peeta had thrown upon me was one that I couldn't grasp. I'd fallen into the habit of routinely tapping my pen against my lips as I thought of the crystal blue eyes or the dauntingly brilliant smile he gave me every once in a while. Although I would never admit it aloud, yet I somehow make sure I don't constantly repeat it in my head that when the crinkles of his eyes begin to form, my heart flutters.

Following Mr. Mellark from my office, shoving my arms into my coat without any of my normal coordination, I begin to feel a little anxious of why Peeta being gone is such an issue. As I begin to put myself in Theodore's shoes he stops suddenly in front of me, scratching his head in thought.

"I never should've brought that box out." He mumbles to himself as his eyes search between the four roads at the intersection. Cars drive past, some stopping when Theodore looks as though he's going to cross, then shake their heads when he makes no move to do so. He looks troubled, his coat thrown on inside out and no socks in sight with his orange loafers. He looks dishevelled.

I step forward, my voice sounding what I hope is soft, "where does he usually go?" Might as well take a stab in the dark that this might've happened in the past. Before I can question myself, he turns his eyes to me, the gentle look that I'm used to is replaced with one of dismay.

"He usually heads to the park near Swan Lane," he gestures behind us absently, "but I've already checked and he's no where to be seen. He always leaves a note and if he doesn't then he's there. Always there." He shakes his head, the guilt creeping across his face.

"Have you tried the bar?" I ask, my eyes flitting to The Hob across the road to where a few recognisable patrons are shuffling in, hands pulling at their coats and hats. "That's where I met Peeta."

Theodore shrugs, his hand slipping inside his pocket to check his phone, probably for messages or any sign of Peeta. "there's no harm in trying."

As we enter the bar, my eyes scan the room immediately, falling on old drunks and barley legal freshers who've finished work. The familiar smell of stale beer reminds me of the times I saw Peeta here. HIs hand poised over a sketch book and a glass of spirits next to him - sometimes Sam Adams - and his left hand in his hair, eyebrows drawn as he moved the pencil across the paper.

The booths are mostly empty for the lunch hour, which is relatively normal, as well as the bar being manned by only one bar tender. Theodore approaches the bar, placing both hands against the counter top and leaning forward to grasp the bartenders attention.

"Hello, has a young blonde version of me been in the bar today?" He asks, the comparison being one that rings truth.

The bartender frowns for a moment, his arms folding across his chest holding the polishing cloth and wine glass he was tending to moments ago. He pauses and turns to look at the booths, clearly trying to start up his memory but his gaze is fallen, "I haven't seen anyone that looks like you today sir, sorry."

Theodore sighs, his shoulders heaving as he runs a hand through his gold locks, "thank you for your help."

I stand there completely useless, my mouth opening and closing as I try and give some sort of helping advice, but I'm left with nothing. I nod at the bartender, Harry, if I remember his name correctly from one of Johanna's many one night stands, and turn to leave with Theodore.

As we leave the bar, the cold air hits from outside and I pull my coat closer to my body, my eyes scanning the street with all the hope I have. The sun is on it's decent when we finally reach the bakery, a sign half-hanging on the front of the door which was noticeably rushed read "closed until further notice". The bakery didn't seem nearly as cheery as it's usual self and I felt a tad cold from the shop front.

Theodore and I had checked all over town, searching the local library, the town hall, various coffee shops and even the animal shelter at the edge of town, but there was no sign of Peeta. I hope no suspicion was raised with the constant asking around for Peeta, we kept discreet and careful with the wording of our phrases but there was no luck.

The bakery door swung open as Theodore clicked the lock, gesturing for me to enter first and then followed suit, his eyes tired and lacking their usual light once again. "Well, I suppose I better call the sherif, see if he's seen him. I'll try his mobile again and see if that brings any luck, he sometimes answers if he's been gone a while."

I nod my head, but I couldn't help the curiosity and the questions bubbling in my throat, "Theodore, I was just wondering why Peeta ran off? Was there a particular reason or does this happen often or-"

"Not for a while," Theodore cuts off the questions quickly, "you must understand, Katniss, that Peeta is suffering from a strong case of PTSD, to which has brought the mute "characteristic" - that's what the doctor calls it - forward. His mother was never one to be affectionate and she never had a liking for Peeta We've only just managed to get the prescription for the anxiolytics, which may help him speak."

My eyes follow his lips with every word, my stomach tangling at the thoughts brewing in my head of what might've happened. Precious, sweet Peeta, who had been through something so traumatic it had rendered him from speaking, perhaps, ever again. Well, now I was being a tad dramatic but I couldn't help the constant thoughts flowing through my mind.

"They didn't get along?" I ask, my fingers fumbling over one another. I needed to find something to do with my hands.

Theodore frowned then taking a deep breath he began to talk, "Kendra, for some reason, never allowed Peeta to be the loving son he wanted to be so desperately. Late night chores, extra hours at the bakery and insults. I never realised this was happening, I was too busy in the bakery." He gestures around him then brings his arms back to fold across his chest, "Rye, Peeta's older brother, mentioned that Kendra was beginning to become physical with Peeta, hitting him whenever he did something wrong, dropped a bun or slightly burnt a loaf."

I felt my stomach do a somersault at the words spilling from Theodore's mouth, my eyes widening, "She hit him?" I don't even recognise the voice emitting from me. It's breathless and somewhat heartbroken.

He nods, his eyes downcast with guilt and shame, "I tried to talk to her, get her to stop. I thought I had! She promised me that it was only once and she apologised and regretted it. But then I started to notice bruises on Peeta's back after he'd taken a shower. He'd always rush past, hiding his back with a towel or pulling on a t-shirt quickly so I wouldn't notice. Then one night I finished up early and came upstairs to find Peeta walking to the bathroom with bruises all over his back, his eyes red and bags under his eyes."

"It's not your fault, Theodore." I say, the sorrow clear in my voice, "she deserves nothing but the worst."

"I went to tell her again to stop, that I would call the police and make sure that she would pay for what she had done, but she wasn't home. So I waited, and she never came home. So when I fell asleep and woke the next morning, I found Peeta on the ground in the bakery." His face stiffens at the memory, a shudder running down his frame, yet he continues, "He wasn't conscious but he was breathing. _Just_. I called the ambulance and the police, told Rye to fetch an overnight bag and then when the ambulance came, I went with him."

"I'm so sorry." I didn't know I was crying until my hands touched my face, long ribbons of salty tears streaming down my cheeks. Where was this bitch now? I could kick her, punch her, fuck, even kill her! How dare someone abuse their son, especially one as kind as Peeta.

"Don't apologise, it wasn't your fault." He touches my arm briefly, "We never saw her again."

"She needs to pay for what she's done." I find myself saying before I can stop it. "I know it may not be my place to say anything but she needs to be found and realise how badly she has hurt your son."

Suddenly, I feel a vibration in my pocket, the jazzy ringtone Finnick had picked for himself playing loudly through the dim bakery front and I shove my hand into my pocket just as the call ends.

12 missed calls, 8 text messages and 4 voice mail.

Fuck! I had completely forgotten about my phone throughout the day whilst looking for Peeta.

"I'm sorry, do go on, I'll turn this off." I begin to say but Theodore holds out his hand to silence me.

"I need to call the Sherif anyway and I think I've kept you long enough. Thank you so much for your help today Katniss, I can't begin to explain how grateful I am to have someone help me look for him now his brothers are gone."

I nod, "Any time you need I'm happy to help." The worry in my chest begins to swell as Theodore exits the front of the bakery to make a call from the back and I begin to think of Peeta out, alone by himself in this weather.

My fingers move across the screen, scanning over the many missed calls that I've managed to not notice.

(4) Missed Calls from Johanna

(8) Text Messages from Finnick

(5) Missed Calls from Finnick

(2) Text Messages from Prim

My hands began to shake as I slid my finger across the screen to return Finnick's call, placing the phone to my ear. My teeth found their way to my nails, biting on them as I waited anxiously for an answer.

"Katniss! What the _fuck_ have you been doing all afternoon? I've been trying to call you?" Finnick's voice became more agitated as he spoke, "Annie told me you'd left and then this _guy_ shows up here and won't say a word-"

"Peeta?" I mumble, relief flooding through my body as I let go of the breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding, "How did he even find…"

"I don't know Katniss, but can you please come back to the office, he's been crying for hours and there's only so many biscuits Annie can offer without her joining the party." Finnick sounds tired and I feel a pang of guilt hit my stomach.

"I'll be right there."

—

After telling Theodore that Peeta was safe, he immediately hung up the phone and followed me out the bakery door, locking it quickly behind him and making his way to the car. The drive there was silent, and half the time I spent fidgeting with my hands, trying to find some way to cease my nerves. The drive back to the office was short but the anticipation of how Peeta would look didn't help time go any faster.

Theodore's knuckles were white against the gear stick, the only parts of him moving were his arms on the steering wheel and his lips, which were barely moving as he mumbled something so quiet not even my strained ears could hear.

What if Peeta had hurt himself? What if he was worse then he's ever been? I couldn't imagine what he was going through, recounting the story in my head that I was told this afternoon. The disgraceful excuse of a person who called herself his mother. To beat her own son, her flesh and blood, and not give a care in the world was disgusting. I couldn't even imagine what I would do if I saw her. Probably punch her. I hope I never get the pleasure.

When we pull up to the office, I'm quick to leap out of the car and rush to the front door, Theodore hot on my trail as we make our way to my office floor. The elevator couldn't be slower today as my fingers jammed against the close button.

"Katniss! Took you long enough!" Johanna called as the elevator doors opened, her eyebrows raised, "He's been rocking back and forth for the last 20 minutes."

My eyes follow Johanna's pointed finger to the break room and I rush over, finding Theodore already by Peeta's side.

Peeta was distraught to say the least. His eyes were bloodshot and the bags under his eyes were unmissable. The tears leaked from the corners of his eyes, and I had to stop myself from reaching out to catch them with my finger, instead opting for a tissue and handing it to his father.

"Peet, we were worried sick." Theodore spoke with such guilt, his eyes flitting between Peeta's two, "We searched everywhere for you, even in the usual spots…"

I look up to see Annie sitting across the long break table, her teeth bitting nervously into her lip, frantically looking between Peeta's father and me.

"When did he get here?" I ask, moving over to Annie and rubbing her back with my hand soothingly.

"About an hour ago? No, wait," She pauses to think, "probably an hour and a half."

My stomach drops, "I wish I'd checked my phone or even turned it off silent. I didn't even think-"

"It's alright Katniss, it's not your fault." Theodore says, his eyes soft, "he's safe and that's all that matters."

I let out a big sigh, running my hand through my hair, "What can I do?"

"Well, luckily none of this reached anyone of importance, so your job is still here." Johanna says, and I honestly wonder if she has any tact at all.

Finnick enters the room, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks down at Peeta, "he needs a drink."

Why are these people my friends? "Can you both shut up? Now is not the time and I wasn't asking either of you!"

Finnick sends a guilty half smile my way and I scowl at him, taking a few steps towards Peeta. I kneel down in front of him, ignoring the pointed look Johanna gives me and taking his hand in mine, trying not to take to take it to heart when he flinches away. He doesn't meet my gaze, and I sigh again.

Theodore stands up and pinches the bridge of his nose, "I'm going to go and call the sherif, are you alright to stay here with him?"

I nod and he smiles at me thankfully, pulling his phone from his pocket as he leaves the room. I look to the audience we still have in the room and raise my eyebrows at them, jutting my head towards where Theodore just left, "I'm sure you have work to do."

"Yeah, so do y-" Johanna's bark is halted by Finnick shoving her out of the room, Annie following with a bounce of her long hair, and she smiles at me as she shuts the door behind her, leaving Peeta and I alone.

"I can go if you want Peeta, I don't want to upset you like I did the other day." I murmur, worried that I might startle him again, "I just want to make sure you're okay."

I watch as he sniffs, another tear escaping his eye which I don't hesitate to catch with my finger this time. He stiffens before relaxing into my touch as I brush a finger across his cheek. I don't know why I'm acting like this. Guys never have this kind of effect on me but with Peeta I can't help but comfort and care for him, maybe even like him.

"I'm sorry that I upset you the other day, that wasn't my intention and I hate myself for it." My voice is rushed and I scowl at the memory of the tears in Peeta's eyes, which were reminiscent of the boy before me now, "I just need to learn to keep my mouth shut."

Peeta's hand reaches up to cup mine holding onto his cheek, my thumb still moving rhythmically across it. With one look, I know he's forgiven me. For the first time, I really feel the connection between us as he converses with me through just a single look. He shakes his head and a small smile tugs at his lips, his hand squeezing mine before bringing it down to his lap. He pats the seat next to him and I join him, using my free hand to rub my knees.

"We did look everywhere for you though. Your father was so worried, he looked way beyond his years with the amount of frowning he did." I explain and Peeta smiles, "but you're here and you're safe and I couldn't be more relieved."

The look in Peeta's eyes this time is one I can't seem to decipher. He looks at me with longing and what I think is adoration but I must be fooling myself. He'd never look at me like that, don't be so stupid, Katniss.

"Your dad told me what happened." I admit, looking away from him. I feel his grip tighten and I squeeze my eyes shut, continuing, "I'm so sorry Peeta. I wish I could take away all the pain and make you better."

I hear a deep intake of breath beside me and attempt to stop speaking but it's useless, "I really hope this medication works Peeta and you get better. You deserve the best and more. If she ever comes back or even close to here…" I trail off, not even entertaining the thought.

Peeta's finger comes under my chin, and suddenly I'm very thankful that break room door is frosted glass so no one can see the bright red pigment on my cheeks begin to form at Peeta's touch. Butterflies erupt in my stomach as our eyes meet and I find myself relaxing as the blue crystals I'm gazing into distill hope into the fears of today. The tears have dried from his eyes and the redness is beginning to fade as he looks at me.

A grin slowly forms on my lips as a thought occurs. "Don't scare me like that again or I'll never let you sneak me a cheese bun again."

The chain of wheezy laughs that follow make my heart take off and I feel at home, right next to Peeta.


End file.
